


Beauty of the Beast

by orphan_account



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-07-19 09:59:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7356676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monsters don't mingle, they mate. But how often does a beast put a boy back together?</p><p>When Ichigo is kidnapped by a certain Espada and finds himself imprisoned in Las Noches for an undetermined period of time, he revels in the unlikely home that is Hueco Mundo, and in the unlikely bonds he creates with the beasts there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

It was on nights like these that Ichigo wished he were actually, one-hundred percemt human. He coughed and spat blood as a foot left his sore abdomen, only for it to come around crashing into his face. His nose snapped painfully, and Ichigo was sent rocketing into the street below, shattering a good portion of said portion of pavement.

After a moment Ichigo started peeling himself from the crater of his painful landing, and he grit his teeth against the irritation of pain, looking up at his blue-haired assailant. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques -- the Sexta Espada, Aizen’s sixth most powerful soldier. A violent assassin created by the crazed madman in his ungodly reach for divine power.

Somehow, Ichigo knew that if he’d just been born normal, none of this would have ever happened. If hollows weren’t so damned drawn to him… The man above him, a baby-blue-haired maniac, whom cackled and called him ‘soul reaper’ in such a snide way, would never have come to his precious Karakura town, to Ichigo’s sweet home, to wreak such horrendous havoc.

“What do you want?!” Ichigo demanded of the arrancar once he’d regained his breath, “Why did you attack my friend, Rukia?!” Upon his arrival, the Sexta Espada had run Rukia clean through with his bare hand--why? Rukia hadn’t provoked him in any way, not even having yet asked his business in Karakura town. Rukia, Ichigo, and the others had only just reported to the district where the arrancars had tripped an alarm, not at all expecting an ambush. They should have been expecting such a thing, Ichigo thought now.

Jeagerjaques roared with glee. “I already told ya, soul reaper--I wanna know which of you is the strongest. That weakling girl couldn’t have been, am I right?”

“Bastard,” Ichigo muttered, gripping his zanpakuto’s hilt probably firmer than the old man would have liked, and hoisted him up to weild. “Why?! Who cares who’s strongest at this point?!”

The Espada scoffed. “You seriously don’t get it? Weaklings are a waste of my fuckin’ time! I only wanna fight the strongest. Killing weaklings won’t make me any stronger!”

“So why’d you attack her then?!” Ichigo shouted.

Again, the arrancar bellowed with laughter, this time shooting at Ichigo with such speed Ichigo had no chance of blocking him. He was sent reeling with a shot to the jaw, able to avoid Ichigo’s sword like he hadn’t swung at all. “To get her outta my fuckin’ way! Now she’s dead, I can give you all you can take! You’re the one I wanna fight!”

The redhead tumbled, but refused to fall and spun, keeping his sword in action. It was a good thing, too; Jeagerjaques only barely dodged this time, jumping back and giving Ichigo a moment to recover.

“Ha! That all ya got, soul reaper?!” Jeagerjaques called, making his way toward the teen. The way he strutted, he thought he’d already won… “Maybe the short bitch was stronger…”

“Shut up!” Ichigo snarled, fixing the arrancar with as much loathing in his gaze as he could. “My name is Ichigo Kurosaki, not soul reaper, and you’re going to pay!” He wouldn’t believe Rukia was truly dead--Orihime would do something, she always did. But this Espada… he pissed Ichigo off something awful.

After a moment of consideration, the Sexta Espada grinned and popped his neck. “Ah yeah, I like that murderous look in your eyes, Ku-ro-saaaki.” 

Cerulean eyes flashed and the Espada lunged, and this time Ichigo was able to block with an elbow to the face. Jeagerjaques hardly blinked though, head turning to the side and mask fragment tearing up Ichigo’s sleeve and forearm. The Espada followed this with a knee to the gut, a knee to the face, and then battered the kid’s fair looks with a barrage of semi-restrained punches. He roared in amusement before kicking him into the air.

Ichigo shut his eyes tight against the spinning world around him, swallowing back bile. Yeah, this was so fun. Way to go, not-normal Ichigo. There came a click, and Ichigo’s eyes shot open. Jeagerjaques was above him again, zanpakuto unclasped and being drawn. 

“I’m done playin’ with ya, weakling. I need someone more fun!” The Espada swung his blade down with the intention of slicing the substitute soul reaper in two.

“Getsuga Tenshou!” Ichigo cried, flinging out his blade and energy burst and luckily enough catching the arrancar off guard.

When he reached the ground again, Ichigo turned to assess the impact of his attack. Dismayed, he saw Jeagerjaques landing not too far down the ruined street. He was bleeding badly, singed, but still standing. Getsuga Tenshou had barely done anything… and when the blunette raised his head, Ichigo stepped back at the sheer rage in those cold, cerulean eyes.

“Kurosaki…” the man growled, crouching into a stance with his zanpakuto that put Ichigo’s hair on end. “That dirty fuckin’ trick cost you your dirty fuckin’ life!”

He started his nails down the blade of his zanpakuto, but his wrist was snatched by a much paler one. The hand belonged to a raven-haired man, who had appeared suddenly beside the Sexta, and Ichigo had the sickening feeling this was another Espada, an even stronger one. He wore the white Aizen had chosen, and had a mask fragment…

“Grimmjow,” the newcomer said, voice light and icy. “What are you doing?”

The blunette scowled and tore his arm away from the fellow arrancar. “None of your fuckin’ business, Ulquiorra!” He looked back to Ichigo, and after a moment, his face split into a grin. “Next time, Kurosaki, you’re fuckin’ dead. Dead!”

“Next… Next time?!” Ichigo raised his zanpakuto at them. “What are you saying?! You’re not going anywhere!”

Jeagerjaques sneered as he and his fellow arrancar were drawn upward, toward a mouth that stretched to accommodate them at a snap of the raven’s fingers. “I can’t play anymore tonight, soul reaper!” Jeagerjaques called. He gestured the already healing gash down his chest. “But don’t worry… next time I’ll pay you back for this!” The mouth was closing on them, already.

“Get back here, I’m not done with you!” Ichigo demanded, staring at the closing gateway. Before it closed, he heard Jeagerjaques laughing at him.

\--

Rukia was fine, of course. Orihime had rejected her injuries before Ichigo’s battle had even met it’s sudden end. In time, Ichigo learned from the others that the second man had indeed been a stronger Espada, one by the name of Ulquiorra Schiffer. They still didn’t know the meaning of the attack, if there had been one (Jeagerjaques seemed the type to cause mayhem for no good reason…), but Ichigo’s blood boiled every time he thought about it. If he’d only been normal… Or stronger. Stronger… If he’d been stronger, he could have prevented Jeagerjaques from escaping. He could have stopped him from ever hurting Rukia in the first place, and if he’d been stronger… he’d have been able to have killed Aizen back in the Seireitei. 

But he hadn’t been strong enough, and now Ichigo needed to be. To become stronger, he knew he needed to be able to control that part of himself… so when Shinji sought him out to offer to teach him how to stay in control, he had to accept. He needed to be ready in case Jeagerjaques came back… or maybe when he came back, since the psycho had been so adamant about it.

Over a month, he earned eleven seconds of progress. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but eleven seconds was a lot more to work with than zero. Ichigo had advanced as fast as he could in the short time, but one month was only so long.

\--

The next time Karakura Town was invaded by the arrancar, Ichigo and the others hoped to be ready for them. Which Ichigo arrived to the alerted district, he saw a head of blue hair in the distance and took off after it.

“Grimmjow!” He shouted ahead, readying himself when he saw the distant figure turn. And then the man was gone, only to reappear before Ichigo, their swords already struggling. 

“Long time no see, Kurosaki!” Jeagerjaques grinned, the glint in his eye seeming more barbaric than before.

Ichigo glowered at him. “Why are you here again?!”

Grimmjow leaned over their crossed blades, sneering. “Did that little girl live? I thought I saw her on the way in…” 

“Leave her out of this, Jeagerjaques!” Ichigo snapped, crashing Zangetsu against the enemy blade. He only had eleven seconds… he needed them to count. 

The Espada laughed, catching Ichigo by surprise with a kick to the ribcage. Sent spiralling to the side, Ichigo crashed into a building and was somewhat buried by the resulting cave-in.

The redhead coughed and struggled to his feet, shoving heavy bits of wall off himself. He scanned the debris with quick hazel eyes, hearing more mocking laughter.  
“That’s it? I gave you a month!” 

Ichigo started building his reiatsu. Eleven seconds… He saw blue hair and focused on the form wearing it--and noticed a surprising shortage of limbs. He blinked at the arrancar, momentarily taken aback.

“Grimmjow, what happened to your arm?” he hadn’t noticed it before, but now he wasn’t sure if he felt right about fighting someone who’d just lost an arm. 

“Worried it’s not a fair fight?” Jeagerjaques smiled that unnerving grin of his. “This was done to me to make it a fair fight, Kurosaki!”

He accented his point with a violent advance, but Ichigo had been ready. He watched Jeagerjaques realize his attack hadn’t landed through the eyeholes in his mask, another thing he saw the arrancar take in with wide eyes before jumping back. One.

“What… are you? What have you done to yourself?!” The Espada demanded. “It’s been one month!” Two.

“Sorry, Grimmjow,” Ichigo said, flash-stepping so that he could land a blow and back away. “I don’t have time to explain.” Three.

The Espada screamed in fury, coming at Ichigo with such force, even in his mask Ichigo faltered. Four. 

Had he made enough difference in a month…? Grimmjow was down an arm, and still Ichigo was struggling to gain the upper hand. Five. 

Blow after blow was exchanged. Six.

Jeagerjaques grew sloppy with his rage, granting Ichigo the upper hand. Seven.

It couldn’t go on for much longer--Ichigo was landing deeper blows, harder blows, and he was winning! Eight...

Ichigo was just hardly a hair’s width from landing the finishing blow when his mask completely disintegrated, along with his upper hand, and… well, along with his confidence in winning this battle. He knew it, and he knew Jeagerjaques knew it; Ichigo saw it plainly in the beast’s triumphant cerulean eyes, before he was sufficiently beaten into the pavement.

The last thing Ichigo registered before his consciousness faded was the man’s familiar cackling: “Some power, if you can’t even keep it up ten seconds!” 

\--


	2. Savagery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: mature content in this chapter

As Ichigo gained consciousness, he became aware of several key things: he had absolutely no reiatsu, he had no zanpakuto, he had no clothes, and… and he had no fucking clue where he was. Currently he was situated on a lavish bed in a massive white room, which held a solitary, barred window high in the wall. It neared the arched ceiling, even. Through it, Ichigo saw night, and nothing more. His wrists were bound to the swirling black bars of the bed’s headboard. Ichigo suspected the wrist cuffs were the culprit in his missing reiatsu. But… why was he naked? Ichigo blinked. No, he didn’t want to think about that right now.

The throbbing pain in his everything reminded him--Jeagerjaques! Immediately the redhead thrashed about, attempting to break the cuffs. That maniac had won and--and kidnapped him!

“So you’re finally awake, huh? ‘Bout fuckin’ time.”

Ichigo’s head snapped around to find the source of the words and, sure enough, Jeagerjaques stood in the doorway to what appeared to be a bathroom. The man was also naked, and staring at Ichigo hungrily. The missing arm and ragged scar down his torso defined him: an animal, a beast, a savage…

“Bastard!” Ichigo snarled, thrashing more furiously. “Let me go!”

The arrancar raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why?!” Ichigo asked incredulously. “Why?! Because you can’t just kidnap-!”

“I did,” the Espada said simply, striding toward the bed. Unable to free his arms, Ichigo growled and pulled his knees up to his chest defensively.

“Stay back!” he ordered. “I’m warning you, Espada!”

“Warning me?” Jeagerjaques chuckled darkly, raising an eyebrow. “You lost, soul reaper boy. You’re my spoil of war--and besides…” A cruel smile found his face as he looked down on his prey. “None of your little friends know you’re here… in Hueco Mundo.”

Ichigo’s eyes widened. “Hueco… H-Hueco Mundo?!” He was in Aizen’s territory! He was in Hollowland, alone, with this sadistic, blue-haired madman and the rest of Aizen’s fucking army, and he was trying very fucking hard not to think about why he was fucking naked. Fuck!

“So you get it, Kurosaki?” The Sexta Espada breathed huskily, climbing onto the bed toward his panicking prey. “I’m gonna devour you…”

Ichigo attempted to kick him in the face. “I don’t think so! Aizen put you up to this, didn’t he?!”

“Aizen?” Jeagerjaques avoided the kick, laughing, “What the fuck would he want with a little soul reaper like you? He doesn’t know you’re here. No one knows you’re here, Kurosaki.” Ichigo’s eyes widened again. “You’re all mine.”

“What--what are you doing?!” Ichigo demanded, thrashing again as Jeagerjaques’s face split into his demented grin. “What do you want from me?!” 

“Oh, Kurosaki,” the Espada cooed mockingly, forcing his way between the hostage’s wily legs. “I’m gonna fuck ya bloody.”

Kurosaki turned violet, furious. “What the fuck?! Get the fuck off of me, Espada!”

His defiance was met with more mockery, the larger man mimicking him. The boy turned white when a butt cheek was groped roughly.

“I can do anything I want to you.” Jeagerjaques slid his hand up and clasped it around the redhead’s throat to still him. He tightened his grip, not letting up until the teen was gasping for air, his hazel eyes fearful and watering.

Ichigo sputtered, head spinning. How was he going to get out of this? There was always a way, damnit! But no helpful hints were whispered by Zangetsu this time. His heart pounded frantically in his chest as he felt the arrancar’s rough hand sliding lower.

“Don’t,” Ichigo rasped when his balls were rubbed.

“You don’t have the reiatsu to stop me, soul reaper.”

Ichigo stared up at Jeagerjaques’s amused face, horror starting to creep in. He was defenseless. The Espada’s hand settled on Ichigo’s hip, resting there a moment, and then flipped the redhead roughly onto his belly. Ichigo yelped, forearms crossing.

“No!” he cried, looking back over his shoulder. Jeagerjaques laughed, freely running his palm over Ichigo’s buttocks, which the boy attempted to clench.

The Espada leaned down over the other, breathing in his ear, “You’re all mine, little soul reaper.” 

Ichigo closed his eyes tightly and buried his face in the silk-encased pillow, feeling his cheeks spread. There was no way to stop this, and even if his friends came here to save him now, for them to see him like this…

He felt something press firmly against his hole and shook his head fiercely, to the arrancar’s snickering. In a moment, pain ripped through Ichigo and he screamed it into the pillow. He was being pushed deeper into the bed, and felt himself tearing to appease the horrible intrusion. Jeagerjaques stuffed all of himself into his prey, relishing in the screams he harvested.

“Oh, Kurosaki,” the man purred, gazing down at the back of the trembling form. Fully seated, Jeagerjaques paused to enjoy, biting at Ichigo’s shoulder until it was sufficiently marked. “Let me guess, a virgin?”

Jeagerjaques tilted his head, observing the boy. He didn’t respond to the inquiry, using the pillow to mask his pain and humiliation… so Jeagerjaques snatched it from him and threw it to the far side of the room. He was quite pleased to see the tears smudged across that pretty little bruised face.

The Sexta pulled his hips back slowly, shivering as the boy’s jaw slackened momentarily. Bucking into him viciously, the arrancar earned fresh, raw screams.

“Stop!” the soul reaper implored, eyes wide. “Stop it!”

Jeagerjaques laughed more and drew out his thrusting. “I can tell this is your first time with a man, Kurosaki! It feels fuckin’ wonderful!”

“Why?!” the redhead wailed. The Espada slammed into him harshly, hand migrating to squeeze the other’s throat again.

“Because I dominate anyone who dares challenge me,” Jeagerjaques growled into Ichigo’s ear, not halting his ruthless assault. It was easier to move now, since the boy’s blood had nicely slicked him. “And you fuckin’ marked me. This is paybacks, Kurosaki!”

Again, Ichigo closed his eyes tightly, but he couldn’t block out the terrible shoving inside him or the sounds of the other crashing against his inexperienced backside. It wasn’t that Ichigo was bad with pain, but this… how could this be happening…?

The Espada grunted and Ichigo cried out quietly at his leg being hoisted up slightly. With the new angle, the intrusion was hitting him so deeply… The arrancar bit Ichigo’s ear and bruised his leg where he held it in a vice-grip, relentlessly surging home.

“D-don’t,” Ichigo groaned, pressing his face into his arm. He bit back a sob when heat shot into him, stinging where he’d been torn.

“Not bad,” Jeagerjaques mused callously, drawing himself out.

“You’re… going to pay for this… Espada…” Ichigo vowed quietly, pulling his knees back up to his chest.

The Espada laughed and returned to the bathroom, only to emerge dressed and head for a door in the far wall. Ichigo waited silently for the door to slam shut before he let out a shaky sob. How had this happened to him…?

“Old man,” Ichigo croaked, looking up to the high window and beyond it. Zangetsu didn’t respond. “Old man…” he weakly tried again, and again heard nothing back.

He had been raped. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques had… Bile rose to the back of Ichigo’s throat. He choked it back, looking at his trembling hands now. He’d had a man inside of him… inside of his… And Jeagerjaques’s remark had struck him to the core. Of course he’d never been with a man before… He’d never been with anyone.

Orihime or Rukia would have been whom he’d expected to settle down with. He cared for them both deeply, and had never pictured himself being with another man. But then, Jeagerjaques was more of a demon than he was a man… He investigated the reiatsu-syphoning cuffs. If not for these… No, he knew that was wrong. He’d had a whole month to prepare for this, and he’d squandered it with Shinji. He’d failed… He hadn’t been strong enough, again. At least this time, he was the only one suffering for his mistake. His friends would protect each other; they were all strong. It was evidence enough that Ichigo was trapped here, and they were all home safe in Karakura Town.

Orihime, Rukia… they would find good men. Better men than Ichigo--stronger men than Ichigo.

\--

Jeagerjaques didn’t return for some time. Ichigo wasn’t sure how long--the night outside was untelling, unchanging. The unmoving stars were all Ichigo had had to look at for the hours(?) the Espada had been gone. He’d tried breaking free many times to no avail, the only effect being steadily-reddening chafing rings around his wrists from the cuffs. It seemed like the more he struggled, the more energy they sapped from him. It wasn’t just reiatsu they were stealing…

It wasn’t a surprise that when he did return, the Espada looked over his captive with a hungry gaze and advanced.

“Where were you?”

Jeagerjaques raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Ichigo clenched and unclenched his fists. He had to keep the man busy, somehow, until he could figure out a viable escape plan…

“You were gone a long time. Where did you go?”

The Sexta peeled off his vest and kicked off his shoes. “A meeting. What’s it to you?”

Ichigo shuddered. He needed to stall… the Old man wasn’t going to help, and he had to keep… that… from happening again.

“It’s absolutely nothing to me, Espada,” he spat, “Just not very entertaining being tied up here all night!”

Jeagerjaques sneered. “It’s daylight, Kurosaki.”

Daylight? Ichigo glanced out the window to the moon and stars, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. The man snorted irritably.

“Hueco Mundo doesn’t have a daytime, dumbass. Hueco Mundo mean’s ‘Hollow’s Night’--d’you soul reapers not pay attention? Aizen made a daylight cycle within Las Noches’s force field.” Jeagerjaques slipped his pants off and climbed onto the bed. Ichigo shifted away, earning a smirk.

“What?” Jeagerjaques inquired, feigning innocence. Ichigo glowered at him.

“You know prefectly well what, you mother fucker!”

Grinning broadly, the blunette crawled over him. “Yeah? You talk too much. Maybe I ought to use that mouth for something better.”

Ichigo spat in the Espada’s face and readied himself for retaliation.

The Sexta Espada snarled, wiping his face and then slapping Ichigo’s with his own saliva. The redhead saw stars, but said nothing.

“Now,” Jeagerjaques growled, grabbing a fistful of orange hair and yanking Ichigo closer with it. The kid scowled when he came face to face with the barbarian’s cock. “Suck it, little soul reaper.”

Ichigo clenched his jaw shut. No fucking way. He was not going to be any more complaint than before, not that his refusal had much effect. He was still reiatsu-less, his physical strength waning, and he was still bound to the headboard.

The arrancar tugged his hair insistently. “If you bite, I’ll cut yours off an’ feed it to ya.”

“I won-!” Ichigo gagged, eyes bulging. The man had stolen the opportunity and invaded his throat. Jeagerjaques chuckled darkly, dragging him further down the shaft by use of his orange locks.

Ichigo shut his eyes tightly, fists clenching. He couldn’t breathe, and his throat complained of the abuse.

“That’s better,” the Espada said, hips drawing back. “Remember your fuckin’ teeth, Kurosaki, if you wanna keep your cock.”

‘Zangetsu…’ Ichigo thought dismally, the underside of the arrancar’s dick gliding along his tongue. He still received no comforting or helpful words from the old zanpakuto spirit. Why wasn’t he there? Surely he had some complaint about the storm brewing within Ichigo’s inner world…

Jeagerjaques’s cock surged to the back of Ichigo’s throat, and the boy again gagged. His eyes watered, but he kept them shut tight. He refused to let the Espada win this. A breathy sigh left the arrancar as he settled into a quick pace. Ichigo struggled to breathe between thrusts, jaw starting to ache. Hopefully the arrancar wouldn’t last too long… Ichigo’s face grew hot. He realized that at the end of this, he’d have to… unless, if the man pulled out… The idea of getting that on his face made it turn redder.

When the arrancar was nearing his end, he relinquished his grip in the orange hair, only to pin the soul reaper’s head in place. After a few more sharp bucks, Jeagerjaques grunted and buried himself against soft lips. He milked himself, forcing his seed down the struggling throat. He grinned triumphantly when he pulled free, leaving Ichigo coughing and wheezing.

“Thirsty?” Jeagerjaques mocked, watching the teen wipe his swollen lips. The glare he received made the monster roar in laughter. How the fuck was Ichigo going to get out of this..?

\--


	3. Curiosity, Neglect

Minutes and hours dragged on. Ichigo had not yet buckled under the Sexta Espada’s relentless assaults, but his limit had come dangerously near by the time the blunette had rolled off of the bound boy to doze. Ichigo looked at the naked and sleeping form. Jeagerjaques lay mostly in the center of the large bed, limbs spread out carelessly, giving the redheaded captive little space to move around without brushing into him.

One of Ichigo’s wrists had eventually been released, but the other remained shackled to the headboard. He’d felt no immediate improvement in his spiritual pressure levels and so sulked and sank into the pillows to await morning.

‘Ichigo,’ said a familiar, deep voice from somewhere within said boy. The redhead jumped, startled, considering all day not one of his pleas had been answered.

‘Zangetsu…’ Ichigo closed his tired eyes, letting the great white room fall away. He came to himself in the blue inner world, facing a scruffy, solemn-faced man. The wind blew cold on Ichigo’s skin, smelling of rain. ‘Zangetsu,’ Ichigo said again. ‘Where were you? I called…’

There were several long moments where the man only looked at Ichigo, not responding, before he turned away from those hurt chocolate irises. 

‘Ichigo,’ Zangetsu said mournfully, ‘I cannot help you.’

‘...’ the kid started to walk closer to his zanpakuto spirit. ‘Why? Do you know what that bastard did to me? Zangetsu, you’re not… not going to make me fight you for it?! Lend me your power!’

The old man closed his eyes. ‘Ichigo. You lack confidence in your abilities… you rely too heavily upon my strength. Grimmjow Jeagerjaques… to escape him, you must become stronger. On your own, Ichigo. I am yours; we are one… this is not easy for myself, either. But you will learn to be stronger than I.’

Anger started to bubble and froth in Ichigo, accompanied by whispers of fear. The blue world was fading away…

‘No! Zangetsu, don’t do this! There’s no way for me to train-!’

Just as Ichigo reached the man, just as his trembling fingers would have clasped Zangetsu’s ragged cloak, Ichigo found himself again in the Espada’s white room. Jeagerjaques’s chest rose and fell easily, unweighted by guilt.

There was a searing pain in Ichigo’s heart--his own zanpakuto had abandoned him. Even Old Man Zangetsu knew how weak he was… Ichigo laid back on the cool sheets, silent despite the screaming in every joint and muscle. Jeagerjaques shifted, but didn’t wake. This whole terrible ordeal would either kill Ichigo, or would make him strong enough to kill the Sexta Espada. 

Zangetsu was insane. Ichigo closed his eyes and turned his back to the blue-haired arrancar. Strength couldn’t come from this beast’s incessant romping… 

\--

Grimmjow hadn’t woken so fully satisfied since well before his left arm had been stolen. Thank fucking god he’d been right-handed. He didn’t count as an Espada any longer due to kissass Tousen, but as he sat up in bed and turned his attention to the sleeping shinigami beside him, being the former Sexta was wiped from his thoughts.

The redhead was peppered with his marks, a slender arm over his pretty face still binding him to the bed. Grimmjow grinned, leaning down over his prey. Secretly, he was amazed Kurosaki had survived being broken in; Grimmjow wasn’t known for being tender. He smelled the boy’s sweat and blood and tears, nestling his nose into orange locks and inhaling the scent of him. He memorized the sweet and spicy markers in the light musk, before slipping away to wash himself. Aizen would no doubt have errands for the arrancars to run on his behalf… Ulquiorra had been sent to the human world the night before with a goddamn shopping list.

Grimmjow snickered to himself as the hot water washed away his pet’s stains, trying to picture the most depressing Espada in a human’s market, studiously examining Aizen’s favored teas.

While he dressed to go to the meeting hall, Grimmjow paused to consider the still-sleeping shinigami. Perhaps he ought to kill the fiery thing? He knew humans considered losses and death differently than hollows, but he couldn’t imagine Kurosaki was very grateful for being kept alive for the ex-Espada’s mating purposes. Grimmjow grinned to himself, sticking his hand in his pocket and making for the door. Then again, Kurosaki was an intriguing, durable, rare trophy that the ex-Espada had zero plans of letting go of any time soon.

\--

There was a curious chatter going around the meeting hall when Grimmjow arrived. He sulked to his usual seat to wait for Aizen, glancing around. It was somewhat unsettling; one never knew what might occur in this hall. Recently, Grimmjow had lost an arm in here. He noticed Tousen (the slimy git) and Gin weren’t hanging around, and oddly, neither was Ulquiorra. The raven Quatra was usually so punctual…

Grimmjow spotted the new Sexta giving him stinkeye and bared his teeth. That octopus-armed little freak deserved even worse than what he was giving Kurosaki back in his chamber. The ex-Espada turned to the staged throne when he heard the chattering cease; he felt a flutter of triumph knowing that although he was no longer an Espada, he held a prize worth well more than an Espada’s arm stashed away where none of the others could have him for themselves. He knew Yammy would try to murder him for having kept Kurosaki all to himself, which almost made him want to out himself and parade Kurosaki around Las Noches buck nude.

Aizen stood before his precious arrancars, dark eyes unreadable. “My dear warriors, welcome Ulquiorra home. He has brought me an important key in unlocking our future successes against the Soul Society. With Ulquiorra’s gift to me, victory is ever tighter within our grasp.” The king held out his arm and heads turned.

Grimmjow watched Ulquiorra stride into the room, puzzled. The raven was unfazed by the leader’s praise, tugging a human woman along behind himself. That wasn’t specialty tea. The girl looked around at all the curious arrancars, eyes wide and frightened. Grimmjow might have felt the same, had he been delivered to Aizen like a mule.

“Welcome, Orihime Inoue,” Aizen said, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It’s so good of you to accept our invitation.”

Ulquiorra stood to the side while Aizen greeted the trembling girl. Grimmjow watched it all, scowling. What did Aizen want with her? Hadn’t she been one of Kurosaki’s weak little friends?

“Orihime,” Aizen said, touching the girl’s cheek. “I wish to see your power. Show it to me.” When the girl nodded, Aizen’s eyes cut through the crowd and landed on Grimmjow. “My former Sexta, come to me.”

A few arrancars stepped aside to let the blunette pass through. Grimmjow obediently went to the king, meeting his unreadable expression boldly. The Orihime girl looked up at Aizen with doe eyes, waiting for orders. Great, now Aizen was going to let this weird, big-titted human experiment on him. He sneered expectantly down at her; was this what Kurosaki liked? Big tits and no brains? Humans. He glanced at Aizen and tensed at the amusement he found there. Never a good sign.

“Give Grimmjow back his arm.”

There were soft gasps around the hall; Grimmjow stared at Aizen. He was fuckin’ nuts. His arm was gone forever--Tousen had made sure of it, having turned it to ash. However, the girl didn’t seem to find the order strange in the least; with an incantation, her hair clips transformed into a glowing, golden forcefield that surrounded Grimmjow’s stump shoulder in a buzzing warmth.

The ex-Espada hissed in surprise, watching as his shoulder started to fill out and reform inside his vest. He looked to Aizen in awe, the king’s face bathed in gold from the girl’s power. Arrancars were shuffling closer to investigate the divine power.

There was a faint pinching, a vague stinging sensation, as his arm reappeared into being. Grimmjow flexed the fingers as they developed, bringing the completed arm up to gaze at it. 

“Master Aizen!” the new Sexta cried. “What is the meaning of-?!”

Oh fucking hell, that felt good. Grimmjow drew his freshly-regenerated arm from the octopus freak’s belly, starting to laugh. This was… amazing!

“I… am the Sexta Espada!” Grimmjow roared over the other’s corpse. When he looked to Aizen again, the man was smiling.

“That will be all for now,” he announced. “Ulquiorra, take Orihime to her new quarters, won’t you? The Espada briefing is cancelled today.”

Grimmjow was the first out of the hall. Yes! Fucking yes! He was the Sexta once more, his full power returned to him, by one of Kurosaki’s strange little companions. He tore through Las Noches, eager to get back to his chamber. There was a certain prize that needed reintroduced to Grimmjow’s full power--or rather, the power of his full body. 

Yeah, now that he had his full body to play with Kurosaki with, he didn’t want to put an end to the defiant boy just quite yet…

\--


	4. Kurosaki Esapada Zero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo learns that his abductor is the sweetest of abusors.

Ichigo had never faced a hell such as this. The feline Espada had tortured him in every sexual way; he now had tasted penis and ass, cum, blood... Ichigo gagged at every flashback. Yet, no hell of the Sexta's design could hold a candle to what he now faced...

"My dear Strawberry," the Wretched Aizen cooed in his ear, holding his jaw and showing him off to the demons he called pets. Grimmjow was among them. Ichigo was pinned to a very long table, his nose assaulted by the perfumes of flowery-smelling teas.

"Master Aizen," said a tan, wrinkled elder. "I don't care for the sexuality of children."

Aizen looked to the speaker, face stony, but eventually nodded. "You are dismissed, Yammi..." Ichigo could only feel a small relief as the old geezer withdrew from the table and slipped from the tall, wide room. He knew, unfortunately, that before he was aware of it, with or without the listed dropouts, he would be in immense agony. The second to reject the offer of abusing Ichigo was Harribel, but his luck seemed to run out at that point.

Coyote Starrk was not a cruel man. In fact, when Ichigo looked into his steely blue eyes, all he saw was the hollow ache of a lonely man. Coyote was girthy, though. He pinned Ichigo to the long table harshly, with the aid of Lilynette, and made no effort to prepare him for the pain. It was a hoarse scream that he drew from the young redhead. Starrk moved slowly, lazily, drawing out the pain and humiliation. By the time he cummed inside of the teenager, Ichigo had broken. It was nothing like the possessive care of Grimmjow--Starrk had only had him for the physical ramifications.

Ulquiorra hardly had to touch him... The raven would pull Ichigo close, kiss him with thin, cold lips, even jack him off and moan lightly in his ear as a coaxing. It didn't work. In the end. Ichigo only cried against Ulquiorra, an experience the raven could not handle. He put his palm on Ichigo's back, even met his desperate gaze, but could not convince him to break any worse than Starrk already had. It was incredibly disturbing, as if for once, Ulquiorra might experience love. But that was preposterous... He turned the boy over to Nnoitra without words, but would not stop staring.

Aizen announced that Ichigo would become an Espada after his 'treatment'--something he understood to be a horrific gangbanging. 


	5. Espada Zero Initiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo awakes as an Espada.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support and understanding! Remember, if you have any requests or are just feelin' kind, I'm open to donations via paypal! I WILL include any kinks/ideas you put forth, if you are willing to help me support myself!

Ichigo wasn't sure what exactly had happened. He'd lost track of the abuse after Nnoitra, giving up on a rescue. Not that he had deserved one... As filthy as the redhead was, as useless, he was sure his father, sisters, and friends were all much better without his horrid taint in their lives. 

After the final rape, some thick-cocked beefhead who called himself Yammy, the boy had been carted off to Aizen's quarters by Gin. The man had been oddly quiet, Ichigo having expected taunting or teasing from the foxish man. instead, Gin was disturbingly delicate with him, setting him in a bed that felt too soft, wrapped him in too warm blankets, fed him too nutritious of a broth. Eventually, the silverette would speak. 

"This isn't a good place for your typical... ah... individuality," he said after a long silence. Ichigo didn't respond. 

"Aizen-sama will be here soon," Gin went on, almost chipper. "He's going to perform a similar ritual to the ones he creates the Espada with. You are going to be a new breed of Espada... a new soldier." 

"Soldier..." Ichigo heard himself croak, and then closed his eyes to retreat from shame. He was so fucking weak.... 

"A soldier, that's right." Gin soothed, rubbing the boy's chest. Ichigo swallowed, keeping his eyes shut tightly. He didn't want to be touched any more.... Gin didn't remove hid hand, however. He rubbed at Ichigo's torso, over his pectorals and abs, his nipples... when he shifted uncomfortably and looked off to the side, Gin pinched one. 

"Stop," he implored, chocolate eyes wandering up to Gin's steely ones. He was used to being ignored, shamed, abused... used to being naked and unable to defend himself, by now.... what he wasn't used to was the sincerity of Gin's gaze. The intensity forced back the memories of Ulquiorra's turn, the forced adoration and tenderness he'd never known the Espada to be capable of possessing... Ichigo looked away again. 

"Aizen-sama will be here soon," Gin said again, and this time, he also looked away.


End file.
